Seer of Shadows

by Cleave Bourbon

  “I swear woman, think. You could use it to go ask Morgoran about the situation we’re in.”

  Shey’s serious face turned to quiet laughter until she saw that Sylvalora was not smiling. “You can’t be serious. The portal has to connect to a counterpart and as you just pointed out they are all destroyed.”

  “I said no such thing. I said they were mostly destroyed. I happen to know the portal to the Tower of Morgoran is also intact.

  “I don’t know, Sylvalora, I’ve never used such magic before. It sounds quite dangerous to me. I mean leaving one point and appearing in the next hundreds of leagues away.”

  “Oh, pish posh, it’s no more dangerous than any other magic you have used. Migarath the Sorcerer invented them, and wielders have used them successfully for centuries. As I remember it, you used one or two in your youth.”

  “I consider myself wiser now. Besides, they were mostly intact back then. The same magic war that created this Blight put an end to them for a reason.”

  “If you are concerned about the lack of essence, you can manage them just fine with dragon’s magic. They respond to the arcane.”

  “Oh, Sylvalora, what good would it do anyway? Morgoran is far from coherent. The curse still has him.”

  “I may have something for that.” Sylvalora reached into her pouch, the one she kept dangling from the thin belt around her lithe waist. “Here.” She handed Shey a smooth, round stone.”

  “A Lora Daine?”

  “No, it’s a Lora Orbius, a dragon eye.” Shey shrank back, “What are you backing away for? It’s not an actual eyeball! I swear, how old are you?”

  “Old enough to know there is no such thing. I have been around longer than I care to admit, and I have never once heard of a Lora Orbius!”

  “It’s older than even you, Shey. It’s extremely rare dragon magic. Its use will temporarily abate Morgoran’s madness long enough for you to have a few minutes of coherent conversation.” She handed the stone to Shey who looked at it and then relegated it to her pouch.

  “You will keep an eye on Geron?”

  “Of course, I will don’t worry. Everyone will be here and ready to move out when you return. You should be able to go to from tower to tower instantaneously. I should think it wouldn’t take you more than a half hour start to finish.”

  Shey nodded and opened the door to the room instantly negating Sylvalora’s spell. Geron was standing beside one of the round windows peering out emotionlessly. Shey looked around but didn’t see Lyrrath anywhere.

  “He left,” Geron said without looking away from the window.

  “Why?” Shey asked.

  “He just left,” Geron said. He craned his head to look at Shey. For the first time since Geron had joined them his strange gaze gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Well, you will need to go with Sylvalora for a while. I need to run an errand.”

  “Can’t I go with you?”

  “No child. I won’t be long. I promise.”

  “We will go outside and explore the grounds,” Sylvalora said. “It will be fun.”

  Geron seemed to perk up, “That sounds fun.”

  “Come along.” Sylvalora took his hand and led him to the door. She peered back at Shey once with a sharp cut of her eyes, and a quick nod, beckoning her to go on and find the portal.

  Shey complied and looked around for the basement door. She was familiar with the layout of the tower from her childhood. She had spent quite a bit of it exploring the ins and outs of the tower and grounds with her best friend, Marella, but she still needed to orient herself. She found the door and started down the stone steps. She took the torch from the top sconce and went back up the stairs and used the fire from the cooking hearth to light it. Returning to the basement stairs once more, Shey stepped slowly onto each step. She didn’t tell Sylvalora, but she knew exactly where the portal was located. She had been in the room before and had even toyed with getting the portal primed once before Enowene caught her and Marella fiddling with it and stopped them.

  The dusty floor of the room gave away the fact that Sylvalora had entered it recently. The stone and polished wood of the portal opening looked clean and dust free just as it did all those centuries ago when Shey was a young, naïve apprentice wielder. The archway was large enough for her to walk into without leaning down, although someone a little taller than her would not get through so easily. At first, she tried to draw in essence magic, just to try, but as she expected, there was not enough to get the portal primed. Reluctantly she switched to dragon magic. She could cast the magic because she was connected to the dragons, much the same way the Dragon Knights were. Her heritage allowed her to use it, but she was not very good at it and certainly not comfortable with it at all. She spoke the words in what little dragon speech she knew and to her great discomfort felt her sapphire blue eyes began to burn. She couldn’t see them, of course, but she knew they would be an orange-red color to anyone who could. The transformation hurt them and made them water fiercely afterward. She was so bad at speaking ancient dragon that she was surprised to feel her eyes burn and see the stone around the portal lite up with ancient runes, but they did. Under the arches appeared a swirling wind that became infused with a thousand points of light streaking inward. Shey touched a couple of the runes, and the swirls changed colors until she saw the blue and white swirls she knew represented the Tower of Morgoran. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the swirl. Her stomach went queasy for a moment, and she had the sensation of falling before the familiar walls of Morgoran’s tower appeared. She almost lost her breath when she felt the rush of essence magic return to her. She had forgotten what it felt like to be in its presence after spending so much time devoid of its access in the Blight.

  The portal room was near the scribe room where Morgoran kept to his bed. It was called the scribe room because the old wizard was surrounded by a group of scribes who scribbled down every word in case some of his prophecies might come true. His curse of clear eyes forced him to see possible futures endlessly. Each decision made would change the possible futures forcing him to see things come to pass and then change. The Silver Drake had cursed him for getting in its way.

  Shey stepped into the low light of the scribe room to see Morgoran asleep on his small bed. His breath was a bit labored. She imagined it would be tough to get a good sleep with future visions always present in one’s mind. She went to his side and looked at his white-bearded face. He had not changed since she was a young girl, his apprentice. Although they were completely clear now, except for the whites, she could remember the kindness in his blue eyes. They were not as strikingly blue as hers, but they were a pleasant darker blue. She smiled as she positioned her hand just above his face. She wanted to cradle his cheek, but she knew to touch him would probably wake him, and she did not wish to disturb his fitful sleep. There was a slight breeze coming through the open window keeping the room at a pleasant temperature. He was sleeping so peacefully that she decided to go back to the portal and come to see him another day. When she moved to return to the portal room, she noticed the shadow in the corner for the first time. She assumed the figure was one of Morgoran’s many caregivers.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” The figure did not reply. “I will be going. I wanted to check in on him.”

  “Leaving so soon?” The figure said. The voice was male and familiar. It was deep and almost menacing in tone. At first, she didn’t recognize the voice, but the realization came in a wave of dread.

  “Drakkius! What are you doing here?”

  “The same as you, I presume. Visiting an old friend.”

  “I didn’t know you two were close.”

  “Sarcasm? I thought after you ran away from Lux Enor in the royal carriage, you would have prepared a more civil tongue to speak to me. After all, I can still recall you to the capital.”

  “Forgive me, Lord Drakkius. I meant nothing by it, no sarcasm intended.” She decided not to prov
oke him.

  Drakkius stepped into the dim light, “I thought I told you to report to me in the throne room. I have heard nothing from you. What do you have to report?”

  “The investigation of the Highlord’s murder is still ongoing. I have a few leads but nothing definitive to report yet.

  “Oh, what kind of leads?”

  “There are rumors of unrest in the Blight. I am there now to investigate any connection to the death of the Highlord. I used the portal in the White Tower to come here and consult the scribes. I thought maybe Morgoran might have seen something and me being so far away; I thought I would take advantage of the portals while I had the chance.”

  “Be two places at once, so to speak,” Drakkius said.

  “Yes, exactly. I knew the portals were intact.”

  Drakkius moved closer to her, “You would not lie to me, would you?”

  “To what purpose?”

  “It was naïve and reckless for you to leave Lux Enor the way you did. You could have stayed in the capital and investigated the crime scene more thoroughly.” He walked over to Morgoran and examined the sleeping wizard. “Imagine my surprise to find you here, in the presence of your old mentor and master, when I thought you would be out there finding who killed our beloved Highlord.”

  He’s toying with me. Shey thought. “I am here as part of the investigation. Morgoran could be very helpful.”

  “How?” Drakkius asked. He moved toward Shey increasing the volume of his voice with every step. “He can’t even hold a thought in his head. He only sees the possible futures and after years and years of scribing only a handful of what he has spewed forth has been remotely accurate. What secret do you possess that no one has ever possessed for centuries that will allow you to interpret or understand anything he says?”

  “I have none,” Shey answered.

  “You have none? Then, I will ask you again.” His voice was sounding much calmer. “Why, are you here?”

  Shey showed her disdain in her expression, “I asked you why you were here, not the other way around, and furthermore Morgoran is like a father to me. I don’t need an ulterior motive to take the opportunity to see him when it presents itself.” Shey noticed Morgoran stir. “You are waking Morgoran with your raised voice.”

  Drakkius stormed over to Morgoran and kicked his bed, “Then he will wake!”

  Shey hurried to her mentor to check on him. “Stop it!”

  “Sheyna Namear, you will return to your stolen royal coach and have the driver bring you back to Lux Enor immediately. You are on a fool’s errand.”

  Shey felt for the stone in her pocket and then stealthily placed it in Morgoran’s hand while Drakkius had his back turned and whispered. “I need you, Master.”

  Morgoran abruptly sat up in his bed, “Nightmares! Nightmares!” He yelled.

  Chapter 10: Vicious

  Morgoran stared at Drakkius for a moment; then his gaze became fixed on Shey. His clear eyes were voids in the middle of a canvas of white. He shook his head and blinked hard. When his eyes once again because fixed upon Shey, they returned to their glorious blue.

  He backed away tossing his bedclothes to the side. “What in the god’s names is happening? Where am I? Sheyna?”

  “Morgoran, you have returned to us,” Drakkius said. He reached out to the old wizard.

  Morgoran jerked back, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you set one finger on me.”

  Drakkius feigned confusion. “Forgive me, Morgoran. I meant no offense.”

  “You will address me as Master, or have you forgotten I am one of the First Trine?”

  “Forgive me...Master.” Drakkius said with a bow.

  “Master?” Shey queried.

  “He is a disciple of Toborne, which makes him one of mine.”

  Drakkius coughed and then mustered a sheepish grin at Shey. “Toborne? One of the First Trine? I am not his disciple.”

  Morgoran scoffed, “You are. I have seen it. I do remember some of the visions I have had throughout this curse.” He looked down at the stone in his hand. “Where the Blight did this come from?”

  “I put it in your hand, Master,” Shey admitted.

  “A Lora Orbius. Well, you had better get out what you want to say to me. This thing will only negate the curse temporarily.”

  “Where did you get a dragon eye?” Drakkius said. He moved to look at the stone and Morgoran closed his fist around it.

  “Never mind that. Master, do you know what is happening to the Blight?”

  “Aye, but is that really what you want to talk about?” He cut his eyes toward Drakkius.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous; I am not going to dance around this. I am sure he already knows. He has been toying with me since I got here.”

  Drakkius closed his mouth, and his jaw clenched. His disdain was very apparent.

  “The Blight,” Shey continued, “How long do we have?”

  “It’s difficult for me to say. I have been out of time for too long. I have no idea how much time has passed.”

  Drakkius replaced his disdain with satisfaction.

  “What is it, Drakkius?” Shey asked. “Why are you so smug?”

  “You will not find your answers here; that’s why.”

  Morgoran stood up from the bed, “Quickly, listen to me, my apprentice and I will help you. There is one among you. This one can cause you much harm, but there is a blade that can help you. It’s called Malinfel, and you can find it in the Jagged Mountains near the one who lies.” He winked at her and then dropped the stone.

  “Wait. What?” Shey stammered.

  Morgoran sat back on his bed, the middle of his eyeballs began to swirl and finally returned to their clear state. He stood up and grabbed Drakkius by the shoulders, “Don’t go to Brightonhold unless you want to taste defeat.” He turned to Shey, “My apprentice, the fool returns. He is on his way here now.” He gazed off into space as he relaxed back onto his bed. Shey put his bedclothes back and tucked him in again. When she was done, Drakkius looked her in the eye.

  “So, you knew more than you let on earlier. You know about the Highlord, don’t you.”

  “That you had him murdered? Yes, of course, I know. What did you expect?”

  “I thought you might, but you held yourself so well I couldn’t tell for sure until you brought Morgoran back.” He reached down and picked up the Lora Orbius. “It’s unfortunate this only has a one-time use. You wasted it. Such a shame.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Do you actually believe a magical blade will help you somehow? How gullible are you?”

  “Morgoran would not lead me astray.”

  He tucked the stone into his pocket, “You know I can’t let you go now. I was going to force you to return to Lux Enor where I would have you taken care of discretely. Now, I am afraid I will have to do it here all messy and inconvenient.”

  Shey began to draw in essence to fuel her magic.

  “I can sense your essence, foolish. You are hardly a match for me.”

  Shey felt his essence too. It was very subtle and almost elegant. He had a refined approach that rivaled what she had felt from the Ianthill and Morgoran, members of the First Trine.

  Shey decided she had to strike first before he could fully supply himself. She thought of her target, and she thought of fire. She released the essence, and a great fireball cascaded toward Drakkius. He dodged it and made it dissipate almost immediately.

  “A bold choice in such close quarters. Are you trying to burn down the tower, kill Morgoran and all the sleeping scribes in the next room as well?”

  “No,” Shey said abruptly.

  His swirled his right arm in a quick flourish, and Shey felt as though she had been struck in the stomach with a battering ram. She flew backward from the impact and into the wall. The blow had knocked all the breath out of her, and she failed to stand up fast enough before the second blow sent her against the wall again.

  “You see, you are weak.” He raised his
hands to chest level ready to cast another. But before he let the essence flow through him, he stopped for a moment. Shey could hear what stayed his hand, a whistling noise coming from outside the open window. Drakkius took a step toward the window when he was pelted hard in the face by a flying silver flask.

  Shey regained her footing and released her essence with a swirl of air trying to push Drakkius out the window. It was only partially successful with him grasping wildly at the window trim to stay inside. Shey bounded over to him kicking him in the backside as hard as she could. He gave way and fell from the window. Shey retrieved the flask and followed him to the grounds beyond. The drop from the window was only a few feet, and Drakkius was able to recover from his fall quickly, but Gondrial was there with his fist. He punched the man in his already bloodied nose, and the man fell backward.

  “Gondrial! It’s about time. I thought for a moment that Morgoran was wrong about the fool showing up.”

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about or that I like being called a fool, but I did sense your familiar essence signature, and when I felt his, I knew there was a fight on.”

  Drakkius got up and wiped the blood from his nose. Shey and Gondrial took a defensive stance. Drakkius began to smile and then laugh, “You think you have evened the odds?”

  “Two against one is equal?” Gondrial asked. “What an arrogant jerk!”

  Drakkius spit out some more blood from a bloodied lip. “You really are a fool.”

  Gondrial and Shey heard the unholy screech at that moment. It was coming from the skies above. Something big and winged coming from the dark of the skies. Then another screech from somewhere behind them.

  Drakkius took a stone from his pocket. At first, Shey thought it was the Lora Orbius, but she soon realized it was a Lora Daine, a stone Dragon Knights used to travel instantaneously.

  “Enjoy your gruesome deaths!” Drakkius said as he used the power of the dragon stone and was gone.

  “I assume you have your daggers?” Gondrial asked.

  “Always!”

  Gondrial went his horse tied to a tree nearby and retrieved his sword. He untied his horse and slapped it on the rump to get it to bound away to safety. He unsheathed his sword and discarded the scabbard nearby; he swung his blade back and forth to warm up. Shey felt the familiar surge of essence in the air, and she took a cue from him and began to draw in her own. It was a tricky thing, essence, draw too much and it’s like taking too much hot soup into your mouth, not only will it burn you before you can swallow, but you can’t swallow it all at once either.